Garden of Stones
by kdthree
Summary: Ten years in the future from when he was cloneborn Mini Jack now John O'Neil faces the reality of death and life


TITLE:Garden of Stones complete saga

The continuing Saga of John O'Neil

AUTHOR:KD3 aka KRISS DREMAK

EMAIL:

STATUS:Series

CATEGORY:Angst/ Future episode

WARNING:Character(s) death mentioned

PAIRING :Jack/Sam mentioned

SEASON:Future Episode

RATING :PG-13

SPOILERS:Fragile Balance, Secrets, Heroes II, Meridian, Paradise Lost

SUMMARY:10 years in the future from Fragile Balance

ARCHIVED :Jackfic and all others just ask

PART ONE :**GARDEN OF STONES**

My name is John. Well, that's at least what I am calling myself this time around. Calling myself Jack would be too confusing. Ive stayed out of touch with the SGC and all connected to it for these past ten years. Like I said, I mean Jack said A It would be too weird. The gate hasnt been made public yet, but is becoming a part of the urban legends like Area 51. Im not sure I want to be part of the living legend.

My life to date, well, High school was much easier this time around. I found I actually enjoyed it. Ah, the luck of being able to look back at my, his misspent youth and not making the same mistakes. Will they believe I have been to college and have a degree? Maybe, but what will astound them is that I am working on my Masters, the degree, astronomy of course.

The Air Force has been good to me since, what shall we call it, _my appearance, the cloning_. A foster home, a created identity, John J. ONeil. I dropped one of the ls, easier to say no relation that way.

Well, hell, anyway the Air Force did put a lot of money into me, this me and they wanted a return on their investment. Ya sure ya betcha, Air Force R.O.T.C. through college, University of Minnesota. Came out a Lieutenant and just got my second bar last week, promoted to Captain. It was easy the second time around but then some would argue that I never had been there a first time. Well, not this body but this memory has.

I had just started a 30-day leave when I was contacted with the news. Well, it was going to happen eventually. I, he, Jack, was not going to be the retired on the front porch sitting in a rocking chair type.

A diplomatic mission gone badly and the SGC lost their two star general and commander. Hell, he shouldn't have been there, but that had been part of the deal. His presence was necessary for the treaty.

The Goauld, lousy snakeheads, still had some tricks up their sleeves even after all the ass kicking they had taken at the hands of SG-1 and the SGC.

So that is how I came to be standing here in Arlington National Cemetery, looking down at a small plain white tombstone with my name, his name on it. The grass was fresh, still growing in. I dont know whether to salute or scream but I cant cry.

There is a soft footfall behind me. I can tell someone is approaching, heading in my direction. I turn and her beauty dazzles me. Ten years has not changed her. I am still in love with her as I have been since that first confrontation in the briefing room before our return to Abbydos. No wait that was Jack. Damn, it was me too.

AOh my God! She gasps.

I forget that I am ten years older now. A whole twenty-five years old. Resplendent in my dress uniform and being me, well, face it, his clone, she is seeing him at this age not me.

Samantha Carter beautiful in her black suit, one thin finger playing with a wedding band.

I have to ask.

ASo, we, you two, I correct myself. ADid you finally get together?

AWe got married three years ago. I retired but with Jack the C.O. I stayed on as chief science officer and head of R& D.

She was trying desperately to come to grips with facing me. I took off my sunglasses and drank her in.

AWere you happy?

She could only shake her head affirmatively. The tears were burning her eyes and constricting her throat. My widow? His widow.

AKids?

She beamed and dug out her wallet. The photo was recent and Jack sat with his arm around two boys, both blonde. Good they were taking after their mother.

AGeorge T. and Daniel S. Jack wanted to name them General and Space Monkey but...well. . . ." She smiled weakly.

AI, Jack could be an ass at times. Most of the time I knew, especially when dealing with intimate matters. Two boys, two handsome boys. I already could figure the T stood for Teal'c and the S for Sam. Hell, I had, he had names picked out for the kids since he had his first erotic dream of her, sometime after Antarctica.

I suddenly realized Charlie would be about three older than I am now. If he had lived, in some other world, some other time. Damn.

AYou know hes not really there. She stammered pointing at the grave. AThere wasnt enough, the destructions was very complete. The Goauld . . . She had her fist to her mouth now.

I took her in my arms and let her cry. Damn, kinda reminded me of another Sam and another Jack, another time. That damn Quantum mirror.

We stood quiet looking at the grave. I always knew I was pushing my luck ever since Iraq in 91. I was, sorry Jack was on borrowed time. Well, that was his, Jacks borrowed time. Some greater power gave Jack what sixteen more years, two more sons and the woman who was probably the love of his life.

It was strange how I have finally been able to start separating us, that is up until now.

AI noticed the wings. Sam had to start a conversation or risk a break down of what composure she was clinging too.

AYea, this time around I decided to fly them instead of jumping out of them. What I didn't tell her was what I flew. Sam probably could figure it out. What else would Jack ONeill fly? Fighters, sure, done. Assigned to Special Operations? Sure, but ironically Im back in the covert world.

I am going to be second seating a more sophisticated death glider spy plane that will make the SR71 look like a piper cub. Well, she probably knew all about it, probably helped design it.

The Air Force realized with my, his memories, I could be very useful. The fly in the ointment was an unspoken agreement that for another ten years, twenty in all, I should be kept well away from the Stargate program. Too many people around to remember the first Jack ONeill. If I go into the program in another ten years I will be just about three years younger than he was when he first saw the gate flush sideways.

ASam. It was strange using her first name with this much familiarity. Ten years was a long time. It was only yesterday I was a forty seven year old stuck in the cloned body of a fifteen year old. It was amazing how short a long time was.

AI have to go.

AI know. Will we, I hear from you? See you again? Her voice told me she already knew the answer.

ABaring death, maybe. Im career Air Force. But, I think it would be...

AJust too weird. She answered for me.

AIt might be best if you kept this meeting between us. I winced and put back on my shades. It was getting awkward like all those times when he, she, we, they couldn'tt touch.

I had to say it.

AI hope the stupid son of a bitch told you he loved you at least once a day.

With that I had to walk away. Walk away, how many times he had to walk away from her and I was doing it again. I could even image her face as she watched him walk through that gate not knowing it was going to be the last time she would see him. This was probably going to be the last time I would see her.

Each step away from her I tried to focus back on the me of now, John ONeil. It was that or go insane. Damn! I slammed the car door and suddenly realized my eyes were burning. Two life times of tears threatening to burst forth.

"For crying out loud." I put the car into gear.

**PART TWO : D.C. HAPPY PLACE **

After seeing Sam, again, I had to go somewhere, anywhere to get the image of her out of my mind. To a bar? No, Jack almost became an alcoholic after Charlie died; I was going to avoid that pitfall, besides an occasional beer I kept it to soft drinks. Right now, though, a double shot of bourbon would do wonders, my nerves were about as raw as a rug burn. My, correction Jack's memories of enduring tortures were nothing to this, the pain in my heart. All I needed next was to stumble over Sara, the first Mrs. O'Neill.

Instead I went to the National Air and Space Museum. Walking around the Steven F. Udvar-Hazey Center adjacent to Washington Dulles International Airport, I am surrounded by over 200 aircraft and almost as many spacecraft. I began to feel more myself again, that's me, John O'Neil, the man that I had formed myself to be over the last ten years.

I found myself in front of the B-29 Display, the Enola Gay. Now there was a classy lady, even with her history, the first bomber to drop the atomic weapon. There was sexiness to the polished aluminum skin of that huge bird. I began to study and memorize her every line. I had just started to breath normally again, regained my balance when it happened.

"Captain, Captain John O'Neil?" The voice was deep with a soft Texas prairie accent. Training, thirty years, if you add his and mine together, and I turned and threw a crisp salute, holding until returned.

"At ease son, I've been retired for four years now." The smile was soft and easy in the round face of George Hammond. He was welcomed sight After 10 years his was the face I wanted to see most and found the most peace in seeing.

"Sir." I couldn't think of anything to say. It was then I noticed the cane and the slight laxity to the left side of this face, a stroke, but still the man was not slowed.

"G-d, son it's amazing to see you...well, all grown up and a Captain" He took a few stiff steps forward and sat down on the provided bench.

It wasn't as if he didn't know. I knew someone, or ones were tracking me from the SGC and while I suspected, Sam and Daniel, no make that hoped, I knew it was more likely Hammond.

"How did you find me?" I asked, hell it had only been a few minutes ago when I left Arlington. I looked at my watch to confirm it. Shit! Two hours had elapsed. I really must have zoned out here.

"Sam called me from Arlington. Besides, son, Jack always came here when he was in D.C. He hated coming to the Capital "The smile was crooked, laughing at first and then turned down. " We're all here for the ceremony. "

"Yeah, this was one of his happy places, here at the Enola Gay or at the Memphis Belle. " I said again looking at the silver skin of the sleek ship before Hammond's word sunk in. "_All here? Who is all of us?_ And what ceremony?" My voice was harsher than I had wanted it but when you feel like someone just slipped a noose over your head, well what can you expect.

"Jack is getting the Congressional Medal of Honor, posthumously in a private ceremony just the President, the Joint Chiefs and the surviving members of the original SG1." Hammond continued, a still meaty paw was resting on my arm. He was steadying me.

It was my turn to sit down hard on the bench. "Daniel, Teal'c, and Sam, all of us, I mean them together, here, and you? Jeez I don't know . . . ." My finger was running around my collar and I had to loosen my tie. Did someone just suck the oxygen from the world?

"Are you okay son?"

The sincerity in Hammond's voice and his clear blue eyes were so intense I continued to find comfort and strength there. His calling me son, I don't think he could call me Jack, that wouldn't be right and John didn't seem to work but "Son" now that was right. He and Jack had not been that many years apart but just enough to be a father figure to a smart ass Colonel who was very alone in life seventeen years ago. Calling me "Son "was warmer more intimate than he could have ever been with Jack, but finally had the chance with me. And he never would know how much Jack had ached to hear the words that I am hearing now.

Three years spent in Foster homes after my "arrival" were cold years that offered only basic familial support. The Air Force had tried but well, I was still trying to flesh out my identity and I didn't make it easy. The experience did make me understand Daniel more, what he must have gone through, a genius multilingual kind stuck with common folk who could never understand him.

I was slightly luckier; my foster family seemed to understand mouthy smart-ass teenagers with recurring nightmares and a Simpson's fixation. Besides whom could I consider my biological parents? An Air Force Officer and an Asgard, right, sure. I am a clone no matter what is said or done, but I became John O'Neil, Jack is no more, a former General. Crap.

"Son, you know there have been some folks who have been concerned about you, especially since the recent events." Hammond was talking again and I was trying to focus.

"Recent events? My, his death, say it! Say the words, Jack's dead, he died, he is no more." I chanted, I was starting to lose it until I saw the pain on Hammond's face. Jack loved this man; he would have killed for him and nearly did once. I don't know if I can, could, would. I've only handled a firearm as much as needed to fulfill my military requirements. Some skills transfer and I'm frighteningly good. But I digress; I am just putting off the one question I have to selfishly ask.

"What happens when I die?"

"Your body will be cremated and your ashes taken to the Asgard home world, per Thor's request. General Davis and I will be immediately notified and we have two others designated to replace us."

"Uncle Thor huh?" I rose. This sucked. I needed air. "For crying out loud, when is the ceremony?"

"At 1600 in the Oval office." Hammond leaned on his cane to get up.

"I don't think I can make it, would be kinda weird. Send my regards though."

"Son?"

"Eighteen hundred. There is a bar I remember." I remembered the day, the beer, the reporter, the car that hit the reporter, his blood on my hands.

"I know from a prior medal ceremony." Hammond smiled. "If you don't show I think we'll understand."

There was nothing else left to do. I snapped off another salute, it was returned and I walked off slipping on my sunglasses. A nice long walk along the "Wall" would go right, right about now. I think I need a cigarette.

End part Two

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PART THREE : CHAIN SMOKING

I never smoked a cigarette, correction this body, me John has never smoked, but Jack's memories are there. He remembered how good it felt to suck down some smoke after a great meal, with a shot and a beer, after sex, or how the mere business of dealing with a cigarette and the act/art of smoking were distractions from hands that wanted to tremble from fear or excitement. A mission accomplished and those precious few smokes with your buddies after you just pulled off a covert mission without it all getting FUBAR'd, everyone coming back, no one left behind, moments to be savored. Lucky for me these cigarettes are harmless; who would have thought science and the tobacco companies had figured out a way to take all the evil out of these burning white sticks of smoke.

Jack smoked like a chimney on Abbydos, Skaara and his fascination with my/Jack's lighter made me smile. That crazy kid, a surrogate Charlie, grew up to be a fine man got ascended by the Ancients to spite Anubis what a life, death and after life. I wish me, John would have known him. I hope he's one helluva Ancient now.

I've just lit my third smoke. I've already become a chain smoker, crap. I've walked the length of the wall twice, stopped at all the memorials and I dread looking at my watch. I know by the sun what time it is. The bar is not that far away. Walking away in the direction I don't want to go, but know I must. I walk past somber faces who are mourning, remembering those gone before, names on a black wall. Will there someday be a wall, plaque, or memorial for those lost in the many years of the Star Gate program? Daniel should design it. Maybe they'll do something like the spooks at the CIA just nameless stars on a wall for another fallen hero. Jack's memories provide me with all the names up till my arrival, Kowalski, SG 10, Cromwell, Captains Hanson, Connor, Majors Benton, Hawkins, Mansfield... I had to stop there too many faces to remember again, for the first time.

I was through the door before I realized it and standing at the bar, my cap under one arm and my hand out motioning to the bartender. Bourbon two fingers and a draft. Both were downed in rapid succession. Nerves settled? No, just given their first dose of anesthetic.

"Captain O'Neil with one L?" Asked a young woman, a cocktail waitress, she is looking intently at my nametag. "Your party is waiting in the private lounge. If you'll follow me?"

I give her one of my rakish yet boyish half smiles. She is beautiful and I wonder what she is doing later. Amazing how easily hormones can distract you. I watched her walk a head of me; do I detect an extra swish to the hips for my benefit? It's the uniform, a chick magnet.

Reality hits me in the face, face to face with Paul Davis, Major, correction, General Paul Davis. He is standing outside of the door to the room that I that I am being led to, my welcoming committee. He is greyer, a few more lines but essential nothing has changed in those green eyes of his that held as much passion for the Stargate program as any of us, correction, them. Those deep feelings and his commitment to the program made him a kind of member of the team. Hell, he was the best friend the program had at the Pentagon for how many years? And for Washington to hand the reigns over to him after Jack, damn, died, was only logical. Jack would have picked him for his successor long before that fateful day and probably had.

"Damn, Colonel... I mean Captain." General Davis sputters, He extends a hand to me, but I have already raised mine in a salute. He snaps one back crisply with a smile. "I had too many years of saluting, you know ..." there is a pause while he tries to figure out how to say it," the Colonel, and then General."

"Begging the General's pardon but you know better, I'm not him." Within my own mind I hear myself actually say_, "It's not me.""_

"I know John, do you mind if I call you John?" He has a hand on my arm in a gentle paternal way. Jack was older than Davis but now I'm the kid.

"No sir. I would like that." I am being honest; it is nice to be identified as me. Hammond steps stiffly out of the room to see what the delay is. Davis and Hammond my _two fairy g-d generals _looking at me, both of them ready to keep their _CinderJohn_ from running from the ball before the last stroke of midnight.

The door is open and I can see _them, _the rest of SG1 at the table. Deep breath John, come on boy you can do it, draw on some of Jack's memories; this can't be any worse than four months in an Iraqi prison.

The table is round and covered with drinks and it looks like they needed the fortifying as much as I do. Sam is there, staring at me swallowing in that way she has when she was nervous. She stands up with the grace of princess and the strength of a warrior. She was the queen of his heart, and I should bow in her presence.

Teal'c rises up from behind the table, still the wall of Jaffa that he always was. There is a momentary hint, a glint of recognition but then darkness and sadness cloud the jasper of his eyes. I can read it all there. He knows I am not his best friend, Jack O'Neill, the real one is dead. I am just the clone and regardless of the DNA, the memories, the identical features I am not now nor will I ever be him, be the one who gave Teal'c the faith to turn his back on his only known existence and become Sholva- traitor, to save his people and stop the Goa'uld atrocities.

I have done nothing to earn Teal'c's respect. He only suffers me while he decides if I am worthy to be compared to the original. Only in his eyes will I be able to judge myself, someday, as a warrior.

A tear of his angst glistens a trail down his gold-dusted coffee skin. Jack would have sold his soul to be able to shed a tear as freely as Teal'c has the strength too. And I would be standing next to him signing my name under his. My eyes -only burn and are barren of tears. I turn away and light a cigarette. I need the distractions for what comes next.

Daniel.

He stood up and eyed me like a dusty old artifact or is he evaluating the forgery? He is older than me now but about the age Jack was when SG1 was formed. In ten years any gawky awkwardness had long gone from him. He is strong, lean, the muscle mass he had once built up after his descent is softer now. Daniel is mature, a man of stature, to be respected and perhaps even awed. His blue eyes brim with tears. His mouth breaks into one of those smiles that make his eyes twinkle. Jack loved him like a brother, son, friend and never forgot or forgave the sandy haired archeologist for giving him back his life. His hairline is receding and I take a simple pleasure in that as Jack must have.

Jacob Carter, still a Tokra, only slightly aged stands next to his daughter, Sam, the mother of Jack's sons, and how is this for a mind numbing twist; biologically they are my boys too. Hi Grandpa Jake, crap and double crap.

And there is one place left at the table, left empty in their own missing man formation. I see it, a simple white cylinder, in silent homage the damn penlight has been laid delicately on a folded linen napkin, a shroud. Jack's memories of her dagger my heart with the loss of Doctor Janet Fraiser. Missing from their lives for ten years but never forgotten.

I feel these emotions but there is a hole in my soul that wants to be filled with new memories with these people, new memories that can be mine and mine alone.

There is a soft cough from behind me. Hammond is at my left side his right hand resting on my left shoulder for both balance and a familiarity that he and Jack could never have, but it is Davis who speaks.

"I would like to introduce Captain John O'Neil, one L, of the United States Air Force." Intones Davis as if he just presented the Rose Bowl Queen.

"Evening campers." The words are out of my mouth before I can stop them.

**PART FOUR : THE THREE STOOGES AND ABE **

Sam sat down heavily in her seat and covered her mouth with her hands trying to force back the tears. I hadn't wanted to hurt her, never to hurt her of all people.

"Well, I see they cloned the _"Asshole"_ gene perfectly too!" Daniel snapped at me wincing behind his stylish glasses.

I deserved that and it was true, very true I should just walk away now before I can cause any more pain. I'm never going to fit into these people's lives, all I am is a living breathing reminder of all that they loved and lost. I put my cigarette out in a cold cup of coffee and turn away.

"I knew this was a bad idea." I look at Hammond as I take a step away towards the door. His hand is on my shoulder again.

"Give us a chance son."

How much I want to. I turn back and face them, I step carefully to the fresh place setting at the table , next to the Janet Fraiser memorial one and before I can raise my eyes to look at them I take a deep breath.

"You're right Daniel, Doctor Jackson." I correct myself, not to make it hurt him but, I knew him for a couple of days before I went off to high school. "The Asshole gene is pretty intact. The Asgard did a real good job. Thanks for the reminder." It's Daniel's turn to feel awkward. The relationship between him and Jack had always been a love and sometime hate one. Maybe somewhere in the last ten years they came to really understand each other. Me, well all I have are used memories.

"Well, I see that this is going to be fun!" Jacob Carter mutters with some disgust.

"Did Jack every call him Dad?" I try not to laugh at that thought. But Jacob always had a way of making us all come back to the point, the center. "Forgive us." That voice was Selmak's the only Tokra, Jack ever liked, but it still creeps me out.

"This is not comfortable for anyone." I clear my throat and try to avoid making eye contact but I can feel Daniel's eyes boring into me.

"Dr. Jackson do you need to put me under a microscope?" Why was I being hostile with him? Because Jack never forgave him, for not making it all stop, all the pain the death the time in the sarcophagus when Baal was torturing him. Daniel was ascended then, he could have ended it. The recovery, therapy and the withdrawal beat Iraq all to hell.

G-d they never knew that was a turning point for Jack, even with loving Sam as much as he did he had started to shut down, each day a little bit more fell away like rust from an old '56 Chevy. He started going through the motions after that. I hope somewhere something changed him, gave him back life. I suspect, rather I hope it was the beautiful Sam Carter that brought him back, gave him back his life and maybe his soul when finally they were able to be together.

"You used to call me Daniel."

"No, sir you are mistaken, Jack O'Neill two L's called you Daniel, Danny boy, and Space Monkey. John O'Neil with one L doesn't know you and needs to give you the respect commensurate of your titles." The words were said simply, my head cocked to the side and a crooked sad twist to my lip. I met the piercing gaze of his blue eyes and turned mine to stone. It has to be this way. I don't belong here.

"The ceremony was simple. Jack would have approved." Sam commented looking up tears drying on her face, her lips pulled taunt. She opened the medal presentation box and showed it to me.

"Jack deserved it."

Sam nods and runs a finger over the medal. She eyes me again in that fierce penetrating way she had that could make Jack fold up on himself and want to drop to his knees for forgiveness. Then I see it, the finally understanding, she knows now what must happen and what is the reality.

"I'm sorry folks. You all seem to be a lovely bunch of people but I don't belong here." I turn on my heel and Davis is in front of me. I throw a salute he answers. "Sorry, General but this is wrong." He nods as does Hammond they both know that Cinder John has to leave the ball and that the glass combat boot is not going to fit.

"Jack wait!" Its Daniel voice thick with hesitant emotion.

"It's John and no I can't" I step out of the room and out of their lives leaving a big chunk of my soul in that room with them.

The sun has set over the mall and I'm about to open my second pack of cigarettes as I finally feel the need to sit. The sky is clear and I can see some stars. I know each one. How many planets orbiting those distant suns did Jack walk on or have gates? I hurt every time I remembered the number designation for those visited by SG1. What I could have taught those professors if Jack had just paid more attention to Sam.

I sit down on the steps of the Lincoln memorial, a giant Abe behind me as I light up another smoke. Three smokes later and my mind has just gone blank. It is empty, heavy, and confused kind of a sensory overload, but this is a memory overload.

"Captain O'Neal." It's not a question but a statement from a familiar baritone.

"Teal'c why did you find me?"

"There is much that must be said, left incomplete." He comments sitting down next to me.

"Teal'c, I don't know if I can do this. I can't be who I was and who I am now. Not both."

"Indeed it is a very complex situation that you find yourself in John O'Neil."

"Teal'c I remember everything up till I woke up with pimples and in the middle of puberty for a second time. I remember looking at me, him, Jack, the real one, and knowing that I was his duplicate, clone. Crap, I hate that word. I have all his feelings, memories, I remember Iraq, Charlie being born and dying, Daniel's death, and Sam and.... " My throat was too tight to continue. I took another drag of my cigarette.

"But yet you did not physically experience these memories for it was Jack O'Neill that did."

"I've been telling myself that every day for ten years. Remember who I am looking at in the mirror when I shave, for crying out loud." I wave a hand at my face.

"Samantha O'Neill asked me to give you this. It is not the genuine documents but a facsimile." Teal'c hands me a envelope.

"How appropriate a facsimile for a facsimile," I snort and light another smoke off a still smoldering butt. I open up the papers and it's the deed to the Minnesota cabin. There is a note in a way too familiar handwriting.

_"John, it is only right that you have the cabin. It is one place you can be alone to fish and find you. I hope being, having my memories hasn't screwed you up totally and you grow into a better person than I managed to be. If you have this I'm dead, a formal Air Force officer, no more, you know. There is only one of us. Make yourself proud. It's all your life now. See you on the other side. Jack."_

"He deeded that to you when you graduated High School. I missed that you know Jack, the rat bastard had me retired to some planet where the Tokra could watch me." A new voice said with irony.

This voice was unexpected. My first reaction was to pull a side arm and shoot the son of a bitch. How and the hell had Maybourne found me? And why had Teal'c not reached out and snapped Harry in half? Instead I looked at him and motioned for him to sit next to me.

"Hi Harry."

"There's lot you don't know John." Harry, much grayer but still with that self-satisfied smile on his smarmy lips commented. He dipped his head and then looked up at me his eyes glowed. "I am Litharin, we are Tokra." Then there was a brief moment and it was Harry again. "Jack loved the irony of that." Maybourne snorted and I think i heard a chuckle from Teal'c.

"Listen kid, people change, look at me! If you ever need me let Teal'c know and I'll be there for ya. I owe Jack a lot, my life to be precise and the least I can do is try to keep you alive this time." There was sadness to the false humor in Maybourne's voice.

"Some debts still need to be paid. You may remember what Jack did up till the time you came out of the petrie dish or whatever Loki had you in but after that there was so much more." Harry actually sounded sincere and choked up.

I don't know how it happened but it started right there. At first my vision blurred and my eyes began to burn. Tears, honest to g-d hot wet tears erupted from my eyes and I couldn't hold them back. This little cadre was not ready for it either. I sat between two men who had been enemies but because of one man, had become as close as brothers. Teal'c's muscular arm wrapped around my shoulder, and another joined it, Maybourne's. I, no we welcomed every burning drop and silently I cried for the both of us, me, and Jack

"Larry, Curly, and Moe back together again for the first time," Maybourne's whisper and humor equally strained. "Look kid there is never going to be another Jack O'Neill but there is a Universe waiting out there for John O'Neil with one L. Give yourself some time, Teal'c and I will be waiting." He paused stood up and looked up at Abe Lincoln. "You'll know when." He smiled jammed his hands into his pockets and dissolved into the darkness as all good spooks were trained to.

Teal'c rose and bowed to me with a look of inner peace, his inscrutable way of knowing the outcome or having a faith that seemed bottomless. "Fair day and be well Captain John O'Neill." He too began to walk off and soon was out of sight.

I whipped my face with a hand, lit another cigarette, and saluted Abe. You know I still have twenty days of a thirty-day leave left, and as the proud owner of a fishing cabin in Minnesota I think I'll go do some fishing. Hope the pond still doesn't have any pesky fish in it.

**PART FIVE : CATCH AND RELEASE **

It was amazing, seeing the cabin for the first time rather than just remembering it from Jack's memories. I could tell Sam had been here there were lot of her little touches, not silly frilly lacy curtains, maybe just a better arrangement of things, and more books lots more. But I wasn't here to comment on the decor, I was here to fish. I really did bring the fishing gear with me. I had to go out and buy it. There was something special about that, taking the time to pick the right rod, reel, open face, spinner, and all the baits. It was like planning and assault, you had to acquire the right equipment, figure out the logistics. What happened to just stabbing an earthworm on the hook and tossing it in?

What amazed me most was that in all of my, ten years of life and fifty-seven years of memories, I, me John, I have never been fishing. Well, it's not as if Jack ever caught anything so no deposits in that memory bank there. But we all know that's not why I am up here. Isolated out here I am going to have plenty of time to deal with a fact I really haven't faced yet, have been unable to face.

Up until Jack got himself blown up, I always knew he was there, kind of like a shadow, it was oddly reassuring. I always thought he was going to be there always. Some day after he was retired I could take up where he left off and maybe get back on SG1. But he's gone, really no more. You know we never even physically touched as I remember it. Just too weird, he had commented and now we never would have that experience of physicality. What hell it must have been like for him waking up forty-seven years old with a full bladder, staring at his own face but thirty-two years younger, and no coffee anywhere to be had.

I look around the cabin and know where everything is or should be. I anticipated the photos but wasn't prepared for them. . There are several photos of Charlie and Sara; those caused a twinge, a wince, a cringe a long sigh a dagger in the ribs pain. For a brief moment I flash back and can see the blood on Jack's hands, Charlie's blood and remember how it felt to see Charlie' life seep away, the emptiness of death fill his eyes.

I have to put the picture down, but there are more pictures, everywhere. A wedding picture Jack in his dress uniform, damn two stars on the shoulders, and Sam in a simple white gown, not unlike the picture from that other universe that other dead Jack and Sam. Damn they looked good together. For once Jack had a look in his eyes of happiness, pure happiness. Gone was the little curtain of mischief that he pulled over the gelid heart so battle worn, it was actually replaced with an amber glow of contentment.

"After all the unpleasant things you did and experience for this country, world, and hell the universe Jack, it is good to know you finally were happy. To damn bad it ended so quickly. You were always on borrowed time." I said out loud to the picture.

There were more pictures on the mantle mostly of SG1 and the boys, the twins, their sons who were going to grow up fatherless because of those damn snakeheads. Maybe some day, in another ten or twenty years I could face them and let their mother explain why the man in the uniform looks just like your dead dad that you never really knew. That would be a great way to get them into therapy; I'll make room on the couch.

The fishing gear suddenly went flying across the room. I need fresh air, I am suffocating in this cabin. I lurched out the door and find myself on the small dock. I crumbled to my knees, so far they are still intact, and I let it out The scream grows from somewhere deep within me almost primitive in its sanguine rage, bottled up inside of me, bottled up inside of both of us. This one is for you Jack. The g-ds, all of the false ones can hear this. The halls of Valhalla on some Asgard home world are going to reverberate with this pent up rage.

As my ribs nearly crack and my lungs collapse in **_that_** one moment I have clarity of thought. I have a new purpose to my life, **revenge, pay back**, I am going to extract a pound of flesh for every one, every person, Jack lost, starting with him and then Janet. Okay when and how this is going to happen I don't know but it is. Like Harry said I'll know when. Damn you Maybourne, you're part of my family now, should I call you Uncle Harry? Strange family mine, Uncle Harry an NID/Tokra, Uncle Thor and Mom Loki from the Asgard side of the family, two Air Force Generals who are actually my Fairy G-d Fathers. I am truly blessed in this fucked up uniqueness of being a clone. .

I have sat here cross-legged and staring at the pond till the sunset and the stars are reflected like twinkling diamonds on black velvet, no, pesky fish to stir up the water. Somehow I make it back into the cabin and open a bottle of bourbon, don't need a glass. I sit down heavily by the fireplace and light a small fire. I lay out several pictures in front of me and start nursing the bottle.

Morning comes and the bottle is half-gone and I am asleep on the floor the photo of Charlie in my arms, clutched to my chest. It is going to be a hot summer day in Minnesota and the bugs are starting to swarm, only one way to clear my head.

My clothes come off as I undress and walk out to my pond. Jacks memories tell me where it is deep enough and I dive in. The water is maybe seventy, seventy-five degrees and the shock of it wakes me up, sobers me up. Good thing that the closest neighbor is still five miles away. Despite the chill I start swimming slow leisurely stokes back and forth the length of the pond till I am exhausted but fully functioning again. There is only the water, the sounds of nature around me as I roll over on my back and float for a while. If there are any fish in here I probably have scared them from biting for eternity.

And so day two starts. I get out of the water, gather up my clothes slip into a pair of shorts, and unpack. Should think about getting something to eat, bought enough Jello and instant macaroni and cheese to get me through this. The booze is going to run out before the food and I may need cigarettes. No, i haven't quit besides if it is no longer harmful why not smoke.

As night sets in I have finished two packs of cigarettes, the rest of the bourbon a six-pack of beer and I am talking to the pictures of SG1 as if they were in the room with me. I am rambling, remembering Jacks memories, telling them about his feelings and how and why he could never tell them.

I'll not bore you but this is pretty much the same routine for the next ten days. Only breaks are for getting more supplies. Day twelve and the elderly grocery clerk pointed at me and started to cry. Another clerk told me that the older woman had been a long time friend of Jack's and seeing me was like seeing a ghost. I didn't explain just bought more beer and drove back to the cabin.

"What the hell am I suppose to say?"

I hadn't even realized I had just screamed that as I slammed the door of rental car in the drive way and then kicked it. Going to have to pay for that dent, glad I took out the extra insurance.

"What the hell are you supposed to say about what?" A voice asks. Do I want to open my eyes and see if it the voice is attached to someone or just some alcoholic delusion, because yes, I have been drinking since morning. I have only been stopping to long enough to swim naked, eat or pass out.

"Are you alright?" The voice asks again.

"No Daniel I'm not." I turn on him and **_he is_** standing in the cabin doorway.

"You're drunk."

"You always were the keen observer." I'm not holding back on the sarcasm.

"What's the problem Jack?'

"That's the fucking problem Daniel! Doctor Daniel Jackson I am not Jack. When are you going to understand that?" I storm past him and head for the booze and lean against the kitchen counter top.

"John..." He starts after me.

"What are you doing here? Can't you people leave me alone? Can't I ever escape you all? " I lite up and exhale deeply smoke coming out of my mouth in a good imitation of a mythic dragon.

"We miss him. We... I loved him like a brother, a father, my best friend and he is gone." Daniel yells back at me. There he said it. He pushes past me and pours himself three fingers of my whiskey.

"He loved you as much as one man can love another Daniel. He just didn't know how to tell you because it hurt. It hurt him, when he couldn't make you understand, couldn't keep you from getting hurt or it was something he didn't know how to fix or take care of. Only Sam meant more to him." I toss back a swallow, tears, boy those are new to me but they've been stored up for so long and now that they have found their way out they sure take advantage of it. I don't care if he sees them.

"Why did he always seem to resent me after I came back?" Daniel's questions are spoken softly but I hear his own tears misting his voice.

"You let him live when Baal had him. Daniel, he wanted it all to end. He never recovered no matter what any of you thought, maybe for a time after he was with Sam, finally he found contentment but... He ran out ... he had no more to give, it would have been a mercy for you to have ended it then for him." This pain I remember with a jagged clarity.

"John, I don't remember that, I was ascended then but I know that even then I couldn't let him go."

"You should of Daniel; you should have let him go. He was used up. I remember it all, Baal was the worse he ever had to endure, or just maybe the last he could. There was no more light in the darkness of his soul; he used up his last match."

"But you don't know him, didn't know him for the last ten years. Jack was oh G-d how do I say this He was everyone's hero and the bravest, kindest most stubborn man I have ever known."

"Right and your hero kept this here special." I pulled open a drawer and let him see what was there, what had been there for twenty years, since Jack came home from Iraq, since Charlie died, since the first walk through the Gate, since Daniel's death, since Baal. The .9mm Beretta was loaded with hollow points and it had been cleaned less than two months ago. "It wasn't to shoot varmints." I walk past him out to the pond with the bottle, giving him time to absorb my meaning. How many times had Jack come up here to this cabin and never dropped a line in the water but sat for hours cleaning and staring at that sidearm, that way out, a way to end the emptiness, the pain.

"I had no idea." Daniel is rubbing his tear burned eyes as he follows me out a few minutes later.

"Welcome to my world, his world. For crying out loud Daniel who in the hell am I? And why do I get to be the one who lives?" I turn to face him. "Answer me that will ya?"

"You are Captain John O'Neil one L and maybe it is time we let you live that life. But first let me tell you about my best friend in the entire universe, who I just recently lost. " Daniel took the bottle from my hand, took a sip and a deep breath. He laughed in that sad half crying way of his and I watch his broken heart take the first beats on the long road to healing.

We spent three more days together, drinking, laughing, and talking and yes, crying. Daniel filled me in, in excruciating detail, all he could of Jack O'Neill's life for the last then years. He left me with a better understanding of who John O'Neil was and gave me a better understanding of those missing ten years and who Jack O'Neill had been in those days. Daniel could go back to the SGC and tell the others how Jack had felt. I gave him that.

I had five more days of leave left. It took me three more to detox. The last night I stood, as I had for so many nights, a cigarette in one hand and a fishing poll in the other looking at the stars reflected on the pond.

I felt a tug on the line. No, it couldn't be a fish? I caught a fish! But there was something else, someone else here witnessing this historic event.

"Hello Harry." My voice was neutral.

"Hi kiddo." Harry Maybourne stepped out of the shadows.

"So how did you know?"

"I hoped, I figured, I know you better than you think I do."

"So Starsky what next?"

"Seems there is a Quantum Mirror at Area 51 and it leads to parallel universes. "

"And some of these parallel universes don't have a live Jack O'Neill in them?"

"How did you guess?" Maybourne smiled, his beady eyes twinkling in the starlight. "Don't want to have to worry about that "Cascading entropy thing crap stuff..." He stepped next to me took the cigarette out of my hand and took a long drag.

"Interested in righting some wrongs on other astral planes, getting some payback?"

"What about Captain O'Neil one L?"

"He's being reassigned to a special research program in cooperation with the Tokra and Asgard but separate from the Stargate programs, his disappearance will be explained."

"I'm packed. Just one thing," I reel in a respectable sized small mouth bass and remove the hook from its mouth. Leaning down I release it slowly, symbolically I am releasing myself to be who I can no longer deny being . I just have to be me somewhere else, **_way else_**. There are some who will lose me all over again but this is the only way, for the best.

"You caught a fish?" Maybourne was impressed, no correction he was awed.

"That fact is going to the grave with you and your snake head Harry." It's not an idle threat.

"Okay kid let's go."

"Ya sure ya betcha snookums."

The end.....

Kriss Dremak aka Kd3

Comments to: word count 2591


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